The Wand Chooses the Wizard
by Morgana
Summary: Before you read this, at least skim my series, The Griffinqueen. You won't understand it if you don't. The story's about when Morgana got her first wand.


A/N: A kind of prequel to The Griffinqueen. At any rate, you shouldn't read this before you read it(The Griffinqueen, I mean). I know the tone of the story is a little sappy, but remember she's ten. Almost eleven. 

# The Wand Chooses the Wizard

Today was the day! 

Morgana shivered slightly in anticipation. Today was the day she had been looking forward to for years. 

Today was Wand Day! 

Today she would enter Ollivander's on Diagon Alley as a customer, not just longingly gaze in the window. 

Today she would enter, and leave the shop with her very own magic wand! 

---- *

"Mum, come on!" 

"Dear, it's only ten o'clock. We have plenty of time." 

Morgana gritted her teeth. "No, we don't have time. I've been waiting for eleven years and I'm not waiting any longer!" 

"Well, that's the sort of attitude that'll just get you a longer wait." 

Morgana just sighed, and resignedly followed her mother as the older woman browsed for potion ingredients. 

---- *

"All right, dear, we can get your wand now." 

"Finally!" 

Ollivander's was THE place for wands. It had been that way for centuries. The very best place to get your wand in the entire world was right in front of Morgana. The very best. Period. 

Morgana critically examined the room. It was bare except for one spindly chair and a huge quantity of small, narrow boxes stacked up to the ceiling. With a thrill, Morgana realized that they were wands. 

The magic crackled in the air of Ollivander's. All those wands. One of them was hers, waiting to be discovered. 

Mr. Ollivander came to help them. He was very old and slim; willowy, Morgana decided. His pure white hair stood out from his head, but the most remarkable thing about Mr. Ollivander was his eyes. They were silver and misty, full of mystery. Then again, you could tell a lot about a person from their eyes, thought Morgana. 

He welcomed them, fixing his gaze upon Morgana a long time. 

"Come in, come in. Violet, Violet Henshaw, I believe?" 

"Smith, now," corrected Morgana's mother, blushing furiously. 

"Ah, ten and a half inches. Pine with unicorn hair. A very nice wand for all around work. What do you do now?" 

"Muggle mayor," mumbled Violet, embarrassed. 

"Nothing wrong with that," commented Mr. Ollivander, looking at her briefly. "Mrs. Smith, would you please step into the back room? This may take a while." 

"Of.... of course. You know, I could do with a new charm book. I'll just zip over to Flourish and Blotts." 

"You're quite welcome to." 

"I'll... just be going then," stammered Violet, walking backwards out the door. 

As soon as she was gone, Morgana pounced on the shop owner. 

"Why'd you get rid of her?" 

Mr. Ollivander looked at her coolly, then replied, "We have some things to discuss." 

Morgana stared at him, but he was already measuring her with his magic tape measure. She didn't even flinch. She was used to having objects with strange powers all around her, having grown up in a magical household. 

Mr. Ollivander, meanwhile, was puttering about, grabbing boxes off the shelves and muttering to himself. 

"Let's see... this one, and this one, and we'll see if... " 

---- *

Thirty minutes, about a thousand wands and the whole of Morgana's patience later, only one wand remained. 

Mr. Ollivander picked it up reverently from its place in the back corner of the shelf. Morgana looked at it skeptically. 

Seized by sudden panic, she wondered if this one would match. If it didn't, would they let her in to Hogwarts? Would she be considered a witch, or just some horrible outcast if she didn't have a wand? 

The lid of the dusty box was off. 

The wand was a study in perfection. Its mahogany wood gleamed, polished as if to deliberately contrast with the filthy, disused box it resided in. The shape was flawless, the tip slightly domed, but not round. Tiny, barely visible carvings ran up and down the sides. It sparkled, as if hinting to the magic within. 

Mr. Ollivander placed the wand in Morgana's hand. 

"Go on, give it a wave," he said, breaking to heavy silence. 

Morgana shakily did so, and gasped. A fountain of brilliantly colored streaks issued from the tip of the wand, lighting up the sparsely decorated room like fireworks. 

For a few minutes the future owner of the beautiful wand was unable to speak. When she managed to, it was little more than a croak. 

"Me? For me?" 

"Yes." Mr. Ollivander smiled warmly, somehow seeming like the best person in the world. "Now I will tell you what you hold. 

"The wand in your hand, that has just chosen you, contains a griffin feather." 

Without pausing to notice the expression on Morgana's face, he went on. 

"I don't usually use griffin feathers, because they are (one) rare and (two) not for just anyone. A griffin feather wand can be powerful, very powerful, but only if it is exactly the right match. That's why I waited till last for this one. 

"You see, this wand is doubly powerful and doubly volatile. It is not just a griffin feather in this wand. It is a Griffinqueen feather." 

Morgana gasped. 

"Yes. I know who you really are, Morgana Smith. Although many do not. Only the most important witches and wizards know who you truly are. I knew. It was in your face the moment you came in. You see, I have served many a Griffinqueen right in this very shop." 

Morgana stared. She was the first Griffinqueen in over three hundred years. 

Mr. Ollivander continued as if there was nothing at all wrong with his statement. 

"This wand, I knew, would fit you. How did I know? Because this wand contains not just a griffin feather. Not just a Griffinqueen feather. 

"Morgana, this wand contains your _own_ feather." 

---- *

It seemed like a long while before Morgana could return to the conscious world. She had no way of measuring the time she had been unable to comprehend: it could have been an hour, it could have been a few seconds. 

When she began to notice things once more, she found Mr. Ollivander still standing there, as patiently as ever. 

"I'm so glad you're back with us. Please sit down and calm yourself. This could take a little bit of explaining." 

Morgana shakily sat down on the spindly, fancy chair in the bare room of Ollivander's. She wondered where Mr. Ollivander was going to sit; he answered that question by beginning to pace the floor in front of her. 

"Morgana, the feather in this wand (it had somehow moved back to his hand) was taken from you as a very small child. We knew that most Griffinqueens, before they died out, of course, used their own feathers in their wands. However, we wondered about it. You are, as you know, neither fully griffin nor fully human, but a strange combination of the two, if you'll excuse my use of the phrase. I thought it would be easier to show you that then tell you, as should explain the trying of every wand in the store. Your magic is, as a Griffinqueen, slightly different than what the rest of the magical community uses. You'll find that if you focus hard enough, you can do a spell without use of magic words. 

"Yes, I know that. We'll save so much time if you stop being surprised. I suppose you can't stop, though. Oh well..." 

---- *

From the time she left that store, Morgana resolved that this wand would be the best maintained in the history of the magical community. 

---- *

Not much remains to tell, except what later befell Morgana Smith during her years at Hogwarts. But that, like many things, is another story.   
  
  
  


A/N: Why did I write this? Why am I posting it? Must be one of those big mysteries. Like exactly where my brain is at the moment. 


End file.
